


To Have and To Hold

by estelraca



Category: Kamen Rider Kuuga
Genre: M/M, Meeting the Parents
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-09-26 20:12:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17148362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/estelraca/pseuds/estelraca
Summary: Godai is back in Japan, and he and Ichijou have decided to try a romantic relationship.  Ichijou suggests that Godai meet his mother, and Godai is thrilled at the prospect.  Post-series.





	To Have and To Hold

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MarineHaddock](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarineHaddock/gifts).



> Have a happy holiday! I adore Kuuga, and both Godai and Ichijou, and loved the idea of Godai meeting Ichijou's mother. I hope you enjoy!

_To Have and To Hold_

"This was a bad idea."

Godai looks sideways at Ichijou, who is frozen in the driver's seat. Godai shrugs. "It was your decision, but it seems like not showing up now would be a little rude."

"Obviously we're going to go _in_." Ichijou shoots him an exasperated look. "Just... I don't think we should tell her about... us. About what we're... trying."

"Okay."

Ichijou opens his mouth, pauses, and relaxes. "Okay?"

Godai nods. "Okay. I understand. I _am_ Japanese too, you know. We move at your pace, when you're ready. And you're the one who knows your mother best."

"Thank you." Ichijou reaches over, and his fingers twine with Godai's.

Godai holds Ichijou's hand tight, glad of the warmth. Glad to be _here_ , back in Japan and with the man who means so much to him. How long has he been back? Six weeks? Seven? Long enough for him and Ichijou to circle each other for a bit and come to an understanding of what they want, even if they don't know exactly how they're going to accomplish that.

"You're going to like her." Ichijou climbs out of the car, his coat settling around him in familiar, gorgeous folds.

"I'm sure I will." Godai grins as he follows Ichijou up the stairs.

Ichijou's mother is exactly what Godai expected. She's older, well-groomed, respectful, respectable, a little bit reserved. She greets him with a polite warmth, and he returns her bow.

"Please, follow me." She gestures for them to follow her, and Godai allows Ichijou to go first, slipping his shoes off next to Ichijou's and trailing both of them into a well-kept living room. Ichijou moves with the ease of familiarity, and Godai finds himself studying the little pictures on the walls—the family portraits, and the decorations that speak more to Ichijou's mother's taste.

Ichijou sits on the two-person couch, and Godai hesitates for just a moment before following suit. Scooting forward, he inclines his head again. "Thank you for having me."

"Any friend of Ichijou's is always welcome here." Ichijou's mother sits in a chair arranged at ninety degrees from Godai's seat, and reaches forward, to where a tray has been set up on a little table. She begins pouring tea into three cups and sliding treats onto little plates. "Tea?"

There are small sweets and a wonderfully bitter green tea that contrasts perfectly. Godai compliments both with utter sincerity, and the first few minutes of conversation pass quickly and uneventfully. Ichijou describes what's been going on at his precinct, and with most of the other Grongi war veterans. Ichijou's mother replies with information about people that Ichijou must have grown up with, and Godai listens attentively, wanting to know as much about Ichijou as he can.

When the sweets are gone, Ichijou's mother raises a hand to her cheek. "Oh, I knew I should have placed more out. Ichijou, would you mind helping an old woman out and getting the other plate? It should be in the kitchen, next to the microwave."

"Certainly." Ichijou rises, heading for the next room.

"Thank you." The old woman smiles at Ichijou's retreating back before turning her attention to Godai. "Well, young man. I've certainly heard a great deal about you."

Godai begins to suspect that the forgotten plate of treats wasn't so much forgotten as strategically abandoned, but he smiles nonetheless. "Ichijou and I made pretty big impacts on each other. He's the nicest person I've ever almost been arrested by."

"You have a good smile." The old woman takes a sip from her cup. "I'm glad I got to see it, given... well... how things went."

Godai can feel his smile falter, but he isn't quite able to hide that her words hit home. His hand wants to move to his stomach, to where the cracked amadam lies hidden, but he resists the urge.

"He called me, you know." Another sip of tea, and she doesn't look at Godai as she speaks. "The day before Kuuga and that monster had their final confrontation. Or, rather, late the night before. _How do you support someone when you know they might be going to die_ , he asked me. So quiet. So hurt. So determined."

For just a moment Godai can't breathe. He is trapped in freezing air, and he is burning in fire that is just barely under his control, and—

"Thank you." The old woman's words break through the memory, and Godai tries to tell himself that the air in the room hasn't changed in temperature at all. "If I'm wrong about who you are... well, you were still involved in the war. I read between the lines of Ichijou's calls well enough to know that. So thank you for all that you did, and I hope my son was able to be what he wanted to be."

"What?" Ichijou returns with the plate of snacks, his gaze going from Godai to his mother. His brow furrows, and he moves slowly as he sets the plate down and settles next to Godai.

Settles closer to Godai than he had before, and his right hand brushes against Godai's thigh. Godai doesn't reach out to grab the proffered contact, but knowing that it's there matters quite a bit.

Clearing his throat, he gathers the shards of his smile back together into a functional expression. "You're welcome, ma'am. And I would have to say that Ichijou was incredible. None of us could have done what we did without him. But me especially. I wouldn't be here still, I don't think, if I hadn't been lucky enough to meet him."

"Godai—" Ichijou's protest dies as his mother speaks up.

"It's rude to tell someone they're wrong when they say something as kind as that." The old woman takes another sip of her tea. "It's part of being support—accepting well-earned gratitude gracefully."

"I'm not just support for Godai." Ichijou speaks to a spot on the floor at his feet, though his words are steady and certain. "He's been the most incredible support for me. I wouldn't... none of us would have come through the war as well as we did without him."

Godai smiles, wanting to hug Ichijou. Later, when they're alone, when it won't make Ichijou uncomfortable, Godai will tell him without words how much Ichijou has meant to him.

"You're friends." Ichijou's mother sets her tea down, folding her hands in her lap. There is a distinct question in the way she says the words, but no censure that Godai can find.

"We're..." Ichijou draws a slow breath and raises his eyes to look evenly at his mother. "I want to have Godai with me for the rest of my life."

A slow nod is the woman's response, and she turns her calm, implacable look from her son to Godai. "Then I'll be happy to see a lot more of you in the future, Godai Yuusuke."

Godai can't help grinning. There's a definite family resemblance in the way she says his full name, and he could get used to hearing it. "I look forward to it, ma'am."

"We'll be by when we can be." Ichijou blinks, and then smiles himself, an open, aching expression of relief and gratitude. "Which should be more often, now that the Grongi aren't a threat."

"Don't make promises about a future none of us control." A smile takes any potential sting or correction out of the woman's words. "But I'm always happy to see you, Kaoru. And any friends and loved ones of yours who are willing to come. Maybe you can rope Tsubaki into coming by again, or those nice scientists and archaeologists you were telling me about. Or do archaeologists fall under the scientists category, too?"

The rest of the visit passes in gentle small talk again, and Godai is grateful for it—glad of the chance to process being recognized, and for the opportunity to let Ichijou see that nothing has changed between him and his mother.

When they leave, Godai finds his hands being unexpectedly claimed, held in a tight grip by fingers that may be year-wizened but still have remarkable strength. "You've taken care of my son, and he's taken care of you. Please continue to keep each other out of trouble."

"We'll try." It's all Godai can promise, and he looks at Ichijou over the old woman's head.

They've seen enough trouble for a hundred lifetimes. For now, he's glad to spend some time healing with Ichijou, seeing what the other's life is normally like and sharing in the peace and love of their families, no matter how eclectic and strange those may be.


End file.
